


For Everything Else, There's Stark's Credit Card

by somanyopentabs



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: First Date, Flirting, Get Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:49:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyopentabs/pseuds/somanyopentabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the kink meme where Tony enjoys spending his money on Clint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Everything Else, There's Stark's Credit Card

Tony Stark is the biggest sexy, dumb, idiot genius Clint has ever met. Tony is completely unmanageable, doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone, and keeps making Clint the center of his outlandish attentions. It’s unreasonable, is what it is.

Worst of all, when Clint tells Tony that he doesn’t need high end suits or jewelry or million dollar cars, Tony just kind of shrugs and grins, and before Clint knows what’s happening, Tony has changed the subject and somehow Clint has agreed to go with Tony to his Malibu beach house.

All this is why Clint is currently standing on a beach in a pair of swimming trunks that probably cost more than his entire pre-Tony wardrobe. A member of Tony’s staff walks by and hands him a drink with an umbrella in it. The sky is just as blue as the ocean in front of him, and Clint’s life is utterly ridiculous.

He digs his toes into the sand and tries to scowl at the situation. He is unsuccessful.

 

*

 

Sometime after the trip to Malibu, Clint tries to reason with Tony. “I really don’t need all this. I’m a simple guy. Always have been.”

Tony looks at him over the top of his shades and says, “What’s your favorite band, Barton?”

Clint makes the mistake of answering truthfully, and the next week there’s a live concert at the tower. It’s pretty awesome.

 

*

 

Enough is enough, really. Clint tells Tony, point blank, that he really only needs the basics—food, shelter, and his bow and arrows—to be happy.  
The new and improved arrows that show up the next day are less of a surprise than Clint wants to admit.

They are shiny and sleek and Clint might be falling a little bit in love. With the arrows, of course.

 

*

 

“What do you want from me?” Clint asks finally, exasperated, as the limousine pulls up in front of him on the street and the back window rolls down to reveal Tony beckoning him over.

“Let’s talk about that over dinner,” Tony replies.

When they arrive at the restaurant, Clint shakes his head. “I’m not dressed for this.” He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt. 

“Doesn’t matter, I bought out the whole restaurant.”

Tony is serious, and soon they are sitting across from each other at a small table in the center of an empty restaurant while a waiter pours Clint a glass of champagne.

“Who even does this sort of thing?” Clint asks, incredulous.

Tony doesn’t answer, just orders off the menu for both of them. “Relax, Barton. This is one of the best restaurants in New York. You’ll love it.”

Clint sighs dramatically. “And you’re here with _me_ , Tony. Why is that again?”

“No one else was free?”

“Nope, not buying it. Tell me what all this is about or I’m moving out of the tower.”

“Maybe I just wanted to spend some time getting to know you. Is that such a surprise?”

“Yes!” Clint shouts, and immediately regrets it. The sound of his voice echoes around the empty room.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.”

Clint stares at him, mouth gaping in shock. It can’t be, can it? Tony’s not—Tony’s not trying to seduce him, right?

“Is this a date?” Clint demands, pushing his chair back from the table. The silky napkin in his lap falls to the floor.

Something changes in Tony’s eyes. “Would that be so bad?” It sounds honest, and in that moment, Tony just looks like a regular guy. A very attractive, well-dressed regular guy. Clint is not immune to the effects of Tony’s look.

Clint takes a moment to think, waits until his breathing levels out to say, “Well, no. Not really. Just wish you’d told me, that’s all. I would have, I dunno, brushed my hair or something.”

That’s when Tony laughs, and Clint joins in. They have an enjoyable rest of their meal, and Clint doesn’t scare the waiters with any more outbursts.

“Do you think they thought I was an escort?” Clint asks as they leave the restaurant.

Tony snorts. “Well, you are pretty enough...”

“So, you only want me for my body, then?” Clint says as casually as he can.

“You’re not the only one with good eyesight, Clint. It’s clear there’s nothing ‘only’ about you at all.”

 

*

 

“So, what happens now?” Clint asks when they get back to the tower. They get inside the elevator, but neither of them press any buttons.

“Going up?” Tony’s finger hovers over the button for his penthouse.

“Sure, why not.”

Clint waits until the elevator doors close to push Tony up against the wall and kiss him desperately. His brain has finally caught up to speed, and he has realized he could have been having sex since that trip to Malibu. That was _three weeks ago_. He realizes that Tony is not actually the dumbest person in this elevator.

The elevator opens, and eventually, figuring in time for taking detours involving more kissing and pulling at clothing, they get to the bedroom.

“Seriously?” Clint says when he lands on his shirtless back in Tony’s bed, with Tony above him, tugging off his boots. “Are you fucking kidding me with these silk sheets right now?”

“What’s wrong with them?” Tony pulls off Clint’s jeans and frowns at Clint’s boxers. “Huh. I always had you pegged for going commando.”

“Why does everything you own need to be so...this?” Clint says, waving his hands dramatically until Tony traps them and presses him down into the mattress.

“Why shouldn’t I want to fuck you on quality sheets, hmm?” Tony starts kissing his way down Clint’s stomach, and Clint finally shuts up.

Well, he stops talking about all the expensive stuff in Tony’s room, and starts moaning instead, but it’s a definite improvement to the proceedings.  
Tony sucks him until he’s rock hard and begging, and then flips Clint over. Clint has the distinct feeling that Tony is taking his time ogling his ass, but soon there’s the slick feeling of Tony’s fingers stretching him with lube. Clint tries to fist his hands in the sheets, it feels so good, but the silk sheets are hard to gain purchase on.

“These sheets...are fucking _stupid_ ,” Clint says stubbornly, gasping between words.

“Are you going to talk about this the whole time?” Tony asks, sounding amused.

“Maybe you should do a better job distracting me.”

Tony pushes his dick inside him with one smooth thrust, and Clint’s thoughts just _stop_.

“You’re not easily impressed. I like that about you,” Tony says, groaning. “Fuck, your ass is tight.”

“Spare me the commentary and—ahhh!—fuck me already.”

Tony grabs Clint’s hips and pulls him back hard onto his dick, makes Clint take it deep. Tony fucks him faster, angling his thrusts _just so_.  
Clint gets a hand on his own erection, jacking himself while he takes Tony’s cock. He can’t help moaning louder as Tony pushes a little harder inside, hitting nerve endings Clint has forgotten he had.

“Come on, Clint,” Tony whispers near his ear. “Come with my dick in you. Come all over for me.”

Clint wants to come so badly, he pushes back onto Tony, gets every inch of that hardness inside of him, taking all of it right in between his spread legs, right in his stretched asshole. The grip Tony has on his hips is almost painful, but it’s still so good, the way Tony’s holding onto him, not letting him go for anything.

Clint stops working his own dick and just lets Tony take over, fucking him earnestly into the mattress. Clint’s mouth is pressed into the pillows, muffling the noises he can’t help but make. A few more frantic shoves from Tony, and Clint is coming, spilling warmly beneath himself.

“That’s right,” Tony says, fucking into Clint’s ass a few more times before pulling out. Clint thinks, distantly, that he must have come as well, but right now he can’t bring himself to make certain.

“Stop buying me expensive stuff,” Clint mumbles sleepily. A few minutes later he amends it to, “Well, unless it’s a new archery range. But then I’m drawing the line.”

 

*

 

The blueprints for Clint’s new archery range are hanging up in Tony’s workshop the next day, which Clint notices because they’re right in front of his face as Tony fucks him over a table.

“Gonna have you on every flat surface I own,” Tony says, during.

“Sounds like a—oh! Sounds like a plan.”


End file.
